Chasing Tails
by Frazi
Summary: A woman running from her own demons comes across a man who could inspire nightmares and poetry. Nightcrawler/OC
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Nightcrawler or the X-men. Jena is mine and one of the original seven from my fictional work 'The Rainbow Sister.'_

 _Author's Note: This is purely the result of my overactive imagination and my evil friend for inducing naughty thoughts concerning the niftiness and innate sexiness of Furry Blue Elf's tail! Enjoy!_

* * *

I'm going to have a heart attack. I'm a man with enough woes to send me early to the grave. I have woes of every color. For the past thirty years I'm living with enough woes to last me a lifetime. My wife had been a beautiful woman. She had been beautiful even in death. God bless her soul. I love her still. But she blessed me with seven reproductions of herself. Seven daughters. And each was as colorful as their mother had been. But where she had been an entirety of one, her daughters are as separate and stark as the seven colors of the rainbow they were teased about. In the prosperous town of Haliwell, Maine. But here they weren't the Haliwell Sisters anymore. The towns people now called them the Rainbow Sisters. Because they were all like the colors of the rainbow. Beautiful and unreachable.

Now standing in the doorway while my 'dutiful' daughters came to listen to my final proclamation. Princesses gathered in the parlor, dressed to perfection and waiting for the king. Oh god, I'm probably the only king about to have a spaz attack at the prospect of facing his daughters. But you don't know my daughters. The only moment they all agree on anything is when they want to say no to me. Don't get me wrong, they're not disobedient or disrespectful. They are…manipulative. Ever since they were children. They know how to manipulate me. They know how to say no so I'd love them anyway. But then I love them no matter what they do.

Yes I guess I spoil them, but of all the wealth I've gathered, my daughters are the only asset that make me proud. For their faults, when they're together, they are formidable. And they have made the Haliwell Group of Companies a force to be reckoned with.

I know I had to begin soon. To tell them of what I was proposing. And the thought scared the shit out of me.

So I took a moment to regard them. There was Cheryl with her beautiful red mane. The daring woman who was rarely seen without a man. She was exceptional in her beauty. Bold, exotic and intoxicating. Men found her like fine wine and she found solace on the racetrack. A woman who liked it fast, I couldn't see her with one man and as much as it pains me to admit it. Cheryl was more passionate in her cars than she was with men. Men fell at her feet. But Cheryl wanted the world. Wearing her favorite red cashmere sweater over a daring slant cut suede skirt and her patented impatience. Cheryl was 'The Red'. Like the deathtrap BMW she always drove.

As Cheryl was red, Mia was pink. Being the youngest, I have spoiled her the worst I think. Mia is everything about wide smiles, big hugs and bouncing. Sometimes it is refreshing to watch her flitter around trying to please and amuse anything she sees. And there are times I wished she could do more than plan lunches and make dresses. But Mia is good at what she does. And what she does is have grown men fall over themselves to help her. They hold out doors for her, and slip and slide, sometimes diving off cliffs to have her bat her pretty brown eyes at them. Eyes, I'm sad to say, I've given her and she uses it to the best of her abilities. She is 'The Pink'. My little image consultant. She makes it her bread and butter to tell people how they look. At first I'd thought she'd never be good at anything besides attracting men like flies. But being my youngest. She loves me best. And no man can be me. I have spoiled her I think. For all other men. It is no longer flattering. I worry now. All she wants is to spread the love.

Samantha. My little Samantha. She's dear to my heart. So are the others, but Sam and I share something special. We share a soul. There are times when I don't need to say anything to Sam to have her look at me with complete understanding. She knows me best. And she's the most caring, sympathetic humanitarian I've ever seen. From the various charities she heads and the constant mothering over everything she sees, I worry that no man would want her. Why want another mother. Although you love mothers, you never really want another one. Every man that I've seen with her looks smitten, but none of them want her forever. But Samantha seems to think it is because of her weight. She's not the sleekest of my daughters. They come in all shapes and sizes. My dear sweet Sam is a pear. A perfectly shapely pear and she has it in her head that no man wants her for it. But I wished I could explain to her that she's still a woman. That she's still a young woman who doesn't need to be a mother anymore. Her sisters didn't need her mothering. They needed a sister. She is 'The Green'.

As selfless as Sam is my Jena appears as hard as stone. I don't know where I went wrong with this one. Dressed in all black, it is as if she's angry with the world. And for the life of me I can't understand why. She's my rebel. The little girl who ran away when she was five. Then when she was fifteen. And she's still running, but I've never been able to understand from what. We're not on the best of terms. She opposes me. In everything. I expect the greatest resistance from her. Jena is sheathed in darkness, but she's a child of light. I know it because she's my daughter. She went away one summer when she was eighteen and hasn't lightened since then. And she won't speak of it. The sarcastic, irony ridden woman has the largest heart. She might not show it, but I see how she's capable of so much love. Fiercely loyal, I know that she is the one who will always be there when I call her, no matter our differences and my complete loathing for her tattoos and piercing and black motorbike. How I hate that contraption. More so than Cheryl's deathtrap. She lets no living thing near her. What to talk of men. Like bruises. She was 'The Purple'.

And then there's Kitty. If it wasn't for 'The Orange' everyone would have more peace than was necessary. My daughter Kitty is athletic, lively and always ready for some fun. Coaxing smiles with her antics, if it hadn't been for Kitty, we all might have aged a long time ago. It is her contagious laughter and elaborate pranks that keep us on our toes. Always expecting spices in my tea, I know I've learnt to taste things better. I've learnt to smell flowers. To stop and think of what we are doing even if it was to check for booby traps. She brought joy and laughter to our lives. With all her mirth I sometimes feel my daughter is like the clown. Wearing paint to hide her frowns. Because lackadaisical as she may seem, I've seen her hunger for some peace herself. I know inwardly she is tired of laughing. For some moments she'd like to recharge her batteries before she begins again. And because she's never serious to a fault, nothing holds her attention for long. Maybe because she's afraid for never being able to laugh again.

When Alison was born I'd been hoping for a boy. And I fear that it is my fault. Sometimes I forgot that my beautiful red haired daughter with her spiky hair is not a boy. Alison became 'Alley' and now Alley is the heart of every group, gathering and party where men are. She is popular. She is beautiful. But she is one of them. There are times when it is hard to find her in a crowd, but only because she's worked so hard to blend in. She's worked so hard to please me. She's done everything I've wanted. Been my son. My pinnacle of strength. But I wish some man would shake out of his stupor and realize that behind the content little slip of a girl is a woman who is every bit as feminine as her voluptuous sister Cheryl. I wish that some man would shake her and remind her that she's everything woman. She is 'The Yellow.'

'The Blue' is my think tank. The one entity I can always count on for best advice. She knows when. She knows how. She knows where. And it is that uncanny ability, that intuition that makes her a formidable entirety to be sitting across from at a debate or a corporate deal. She is my business. She's taken it places I never could. Her brain is sharp and her heart is silent. I know it has grown tired of screaming at her for twenty seven years that she needs to listen to it. But she doesn't. Everything with her is methodical, from the neatness of her drawers and the ramrod straight back. Sometimes I want to shake her, ruffle her hair until she's tousled and harried. I want to see her laughing with abandon. I want to see her running around with children chasing her, dragging her into a pile of autumn leaves. I'm not proud of anyone more than Nina and she makes me cry. I cry for her youth. I cry for her hardness. I cry because I want her to allow a man to give her children that I know she wants. I don't like her when she's blue.

All my colors. I was about to throw them heaps of shades. In just a few moments I would have them turning shades darker and lighter than any of them are colored. My beautiful untouchable daughters. The king has had about enough of it.

"I'm glad to see that all of you made it."

Jena held up the ivory card. "You faked your own demise."

I should have looked sheepish. I really should have.

Alley shook her head disappointedly. "This is a new low, even for you daddy."

Nina leaned back in her chair, an eyebrow raised, already guessing what I had to say, but I was sure she had no idea. "I have a board meeting in twenty."

"Thank you for further increasing the importance that I have in your corporate world Nina. I'm honored that you've fit me into your schedule."

"Oh daddy, don't pout! I love you."

I hid a smile. "Yes I know that Mia. Thank you."

"Are you okay old man?" Sam looked worried. "Is your blood pressure acting up again?"

"I'm perfectly healthy."

Cheryl blew the front bangs off her forehead, huffing impatiently. "Oh god, please! If it's another attempt to have us move in again, I'd like to point out that I'm happy on my own and do not need anyone telling me otherwise."

I snorted. "I think it's a well-known fact that you like your independence Cheryl. Heaven forbid I interfere."

"The last time you interfered, we were picking up broken glass all the way down the street," Kitty sprawled in her chair shot her sister a smirk.

Cheryl scowled back. "You know about Hurrican Katrina?"

Kitty's eyebrow lifted, amusement flashing her bright blue eyes.

Cheryl's eyes narrowed into slits. "Child's play."

I sighed. "Alright girls. Let's not traverse into one of those days where everyone says everything and no one listens. I have something to say to you." I watched them look at me with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. "All of you."

"Get to the point." Nina was the one who wanted to cut to the chase.

"I've decided to give you your shares in the company."

There was joy, disbelief, suspicion, worry, indifference, love and gratitude before I was bombarded with questions. Raising a hand I silenced the room and took a deep breath for what he was about to say. "If you marry."

And then all I got for the next two hours were incoherent screeches of anger they had all inherited from my late wife.

If I didn't love her, I'd damn her to hell.

XXXXX

Of all the low down dirty tricks to be played on me this one certainly took the damn cake. I had to hand it to the old man. He certainly knew how to make a statement. As if faking his own demise wasn't bad enough. I should have expected some sort of trick, but who prepares for being blackmailed and swindled by their own father? Nothing is sacred anymore.

"You're being self-effacing again Jena."

Looking up at Kitty leaning in the doorway to my bedroom I sent her one of my patented stoic stare. "Is that the same as self-fucking?"

The woman rolled her eyes before walking to my apartment. "Oh don't be so morbid little sister. It's not the end of the world yet. Hell, maybe once Nina starts cranking out toddlers dad will let off on you. After all, god only knows what will come out of you if decide to give birth."

I didn't rise to her bait. Kitty has a history of getting under my skin and earning a black eye or two for her trouble. She likes to needle me. She says she colors me. Even if the color is black and blue like bruises. Or purple as they like to call me. It's damned sweet of her, but if she wasn't my sister, I'd have killed her. "And that's why I've decided not to give birth." I shouldered my overnight bag.

"Running away from home? That was my idea. You can't have it."

I let out a defeated sigh. "I'm not running away from home Kitty. I'm too old to run away from home anymore."

"You're never too old to run away! Look at me!"

"Yes. In your case it's just the right age." Rolling my eyes I tried to walk past her but she stepped in my way.

"Come on little sister. Talk to me. What's on your mind?"

Gritting my teeth, I lifted my pale blue eyes to her sparkling ones. "I need some time on my own. Do you understand the concept of privacy?"

She seemed to ponder that for a moment. "No. Can't say that I do."

With a grunt of disapproval I shoved myself past the barrier that is my perky older sister and headed for the black bike parked in the spiraling driveway. My father might think that I was on the hunt like the rest of them. But if he thought he could push me around, he had another thing coming.

"Jena!"

Yanking the helmet on, I met Kitty's eyes through the visor. My beautiful sister was completely serious for the first time that I'd seen her. "Stop running."

I flinched and put the car in gear. Sorry Kitty. But running is what I'm best at.

I wondered if anyone else had decided to pay the cabin in the mountains a visit. It would certainly put a stint in my plan if one of my sisters had already stolen my idea. But with Nina's wedding coming up and Cheryl's new temper tantrum and Mia being missing. I had a feeling everyone would have their hands full. Besides they were used to me disappearing. It wouldn't really be that big a deal. Weird little Jena was acting up again. Damn Kitty and her perceptive tone. I hate how much that woman actually sees without giving it away with her sunny smiles and pranks. Sometimes she's more perceptive than Sam. And Samantha practically raised us.

Most of the times I've practiced my mind to stay silent. But the drive up into the mountains plagued me with questions.

Why now? Why was daddy making this such a priority now? True. It was probably not that easy for him to be a father of seven and watch us all be spinsters for life. But most of us have been father fixated all our lives. No man was good enough. And no man ever would be. Not Cheryl's long line of bachelors vying for her attention. Not Mia's entourage. Not Alison's rowdy football friends. No. No man ever would be.

And my damn heart still manages to ache when I think about it. I hate men. And no I'm not a lesbian. It's just I know they all want the same thing. It's a damned chemical disposition. A need to pass on the seed and continue the species. Nothing more. Nothing less. No great big love that unites us all. No souls meeting in time. No two halves making a whole. Just a commercialized word for making money off of people who are already lonely and alone.

I'm not a cynic. Been there. Done that. Bought the T-shirt. And it wasn't worth it.

I just tell it like it is. But yes. I did wonder what my father's motives were. Whatever they were, I wasn't playing his game. Not rising to the challenge. And he could take his money and make his bed with it.

Turning off the winding road up the mountain, I turned off to a smaller dirt road and frowned at the slightly dented electronic gate.

The bike's tires crunched against the rough path as I part in front of it. I pulled my helmet off. Something was wrong.

Leaning over, I slid my hand into the backpack and pulled out the two automatics. I was officially on leave from the Bureau but I'm sure my boss won't completely kick my ass for using my field-issued weapon to defend myself in case something had gone wrong. My boots rasped against the dirt as I slipped one gun into the back of my pants, my black jacket falling over it as I removed the safety on the other and walked over to the lopsided gate.

It didn't look like someone had run over it. I touched the sharp edges. Like something that sliced through it. Like a blade. Why they hadn't just jumped over the damn four foot gate was beyond me. This sure as hell looked more incriminating. Maybe it was an animal. But no. Those edges seemed to be made with an unnaturally sharp object. Three of them to be exact. Keeping the gun firmly in my hand beside the him, I flipped over the broken gate and carefully walked down the path.

The woods were quiet. Which in itself was troublesome. Usually this late in the evening the birds were returning to their nests. It was noisy.

But it was just as well. I worked better in the quiet. And this was my home ground. I knew these woods better than anyone else. The path winded into a neat corner, but I walked straight through the woods and that's when I saw the smoke from the chimney.

Someone was definitely around.

With slow, stealthy steps, I covered the distance to the tiny little hut nestled between the trees, the glimmer of the lake in the distance. With the mood I was in, I hoped to hell it was someone from my family who hadn't bothered to inform anyone they'd be paying this place a visit. I was so not in the mood for trouble. All I wanted was a few days of peace and quiet. To assimilate. Was that too much to ask?

And that's when I saw the blood.

The front steps were covered with them and it trailed all the way inside the cabin. Someone was hurt. There was a back door. Hunching lower, I snuck around the side of the house and flattened myself against the wall beside the little wooden door. Inside I could hear voices, but I couldn't be sure how many. Pulling out my second handgun, I checked them both before sliding my head forward and peeking inside.

A woman was standing over the stove, stirring something in my mother's favorite pasta pot. Her hair was a startling shade of red and she seemed to be completely engrossed with her business of cooking. No one I knew. Pulling away slightly, I prepared to put my boot against the door when I heard it.

Like the unsheathing of a sword. At least six of them.

Fuck. They were behind me.

The second it took me to turn and take the first two shots was the exact same length of time it took me to realize two very fundamental things.

There's was only one of them. And I was falling into darkness.

 _ **To be continued….**_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Nightcrawler or the X-men. Jena is mine and one of the original seven from my fictional work 'The Rainbow Sister.'

Author's Note: This is purely the result of my overactive imagination and my evil friend for inducing naughty thoughts concerning the niftiness and innate sexiness of Furry Blue Elf's tail! Enjoy!

"For god's sake Logan, you've scared her to death already! Are you trying to kill her?"

"She shot me!"

"You attacked her!"

"She is right mein freund. We did sort of steal into her home."

"She shot me!"

"She's an FBI Agent! We already have enough trouble with Scott being hurt!"

The three voices were loud. They were too damned loud for my liking. The woman had a nagging mother-hen know it all kind of tone and the gruff rumble of the other man was like he gargled with cigarettes and glass. The third spoke with an old rhythm in his voice that hinted to a German origin. But that didn't explain why my eyes wouldn't work and I felt like I had been hit by a truck. "Awo." I hadn't mean to give a voice to the pain throbbing in my temples, but the sound of my own voice managed to give me enough orientation to finally opened my eyes.

"Oh look, she's awake. Go get me a glass of water for her Kurt."

"Ja."

Rubbing the lump on my head, I hissed out a breath and squinted up at the swimming figures. The red head leaned closer until her face swam into view, her bright green eyes etched with concern. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay to you?"

Okay so my hands were tied and I was lying down on a couch. And then I felt a gentle hand on the back of my head and a glass was raised to my mouth. The water hit my lips like an elixir but I'll tell you, I don't take to being decked and cured all in the same instance. My hand shot out and the glass smashed against the floor, water spilling over the wood as I jumped to my feet, the fist ready to smash into the woman's gut.

"CEASE!"

And everyone went still.

It was only when I realized I'd frozen solid in my spot, with my arm still raised towards the woman, my feet some four inches off the ground from where I'd leapt up that I realized something was more than wrong. I'd just stepped out of my car and into the damned twilight zone because nothing else could explain it. The three intruders stood in front of me, the woman with her palm raised towards me, glowing with dull pink light and the two men stood on each side watching me with equal amusement. If you could call them men.

Because one slightly shorter than the woman, built like a truck, probably the one that hit me, with hair wild and sticking up in two spikes on his head was smirking at me in a cocky self assured way that I hate on men. The other, midnight blue, eyes like gold, lithe, tall and smiling pleasantly was like a demon from hell with my name on his list of the naughty.

If I'd been any normal woman. I would have screamed. Only the woman appeared to be passable as human. If you call paralyzing me in the middle of the air normal.

"We should have gagged her when we had the chance Jeanie."

The redhead let out a tolerant sigh. "I'm beginning to agree with you."

I wondered if my mouth still worked now that I was paralyzed.

"I haven't paralyzed you Ms. Halliwell and you are not in the twilight zone."

My eyes narrowed. Did she just…

"Yes Ms. Halliwell. I can hear your thoughts. And let me put your mind at ease. We are not going to hurt you. If only you'd allow us a moment to explain."

My eyes narrowed. If you can read my mind, put me down before I bitch-slap you from here to next week, I thought with a mental growl.

A perfect eyebrow arched, a smile tugging at her mouth. "There's no need for you to bitch-slap me at all Ms. Halliwell. I can assure you we mean you no harm."

"Is that why that one came at me like a freight train?" I glared at the short stocky guy menacingly.

"Nicht fraulein. You merely took our friend by surprise. He is not used to anyone getting past his watch."

"She didn't get past my watch."

"You were supposed to have caught her at the gate."

"Shut up Wagner."

I met the eyes of the redhead. "Put me down."

"Will you promise not to hit me?"

"No."

"At least she's honest." She sighed tiredly. "Five minutes to explain. That's all I ask."

"I say we bag her and wait for the Blackbird Jeanie."

"Logan please!"

For a moment I watched their dynamic. The one called Logan was grumping and grunting like an animal while the woman tried to maintain some vestige of authority. But it was the blue furry demon standing there silently that drew my attention. As if things weren't bizarre enough already. Even shorty would have passed off as a rather hairy dude, but this guy was like a circus freak. I'd never seen anything like it. And then I felt a sharp stab in the back of my mind. "AWO!"

The redhead was glaring at me. He's not a freak.

With a muffled moan I squeezed my eyes shut to sooth the dull ache until finally my feet touched the ground and my motor function was returned. Fat lot of good it did me because my knees promptly buckled and the floor reached out to greet me.

But instead, two warm, but furry blue arms wrapped around my waist and instead of hitting the hardwood floor, I slid against the flat, smooth planes of his chest. "Careful fraulein. Now you wish you hadn't broken my peace offering? Nein?"

I groaned. Kitty was right. I should have just stayed at home.

The man looked about ready to stop breathing. It was obvious the woman was involved with him because now that she had established that I was no longer a threat; her green eyes were flickering with unshed tears. From my experience with dying men this had had both feet in the grave. "Why isn't he in the hospital?"

"The doctors cannot help him." The woman's voice broke for a breath as she brushed a brown curl off the man's forehead.

"Different anatomy?"

Damn. I realized how tactless that was even before the muscled man sprang three rather sharp looking claws. The growl was potent warning.

"Easy Wolverine. She doesn't know." The blue one placed a hand on his tense muscle and I finally dragged my eyes away from him, his claws retracting into knuckle. I wondered if it hurt. With his prickly disposition I hoped it hurt like a bitch.

Back to the dying man. I didn't care what the woman said, I had a feeling if he wasn't helped soon he would die on my nice clean floor. If the blood loss didn't kill him, the very sharp piece of black shrapnel that was sticking out of his chest would. "Tell me what's wrong with him."

"Several broken ribs, muscular trauma and a punctured lung." She reiterated like a doctor and I raised an eyebrow. "In our business it pays to be multi talented. I did what my medical prowess and your first aid kit could handle, but my powers are the only thing keeping him together till our friend comes with the necessary tools and expertise to transport him home."

If I wasn't already weirded out I would have wondered where they lived. On some mutant farm. Then I winced. When had I become such a bigot? Cynical enough to not be human anymore. They weren't the only mutants in the cabin.

"Ms. Halliwell?"

"Jena."

"Jena." Jean smiled with difficulty; her hand was still wrapped around the man's. "All we need a place to stay until help arrives."

Stretching up from where I'd been squatting down to examine, the man, I met her eyes without hesitation. "And if it doesn't?"

"It will!" The prickly one snapped.

I couldn't help roll my eyes before glancing at him over my shoulder. "Are you willing to take the chance of having your friend dying here without letting me help you?"

He'd been silent for a long time, but finally, he stepped past the grumbling man and came to face me. "What can you do to help?"

"I may not be God, but I can try."

"God is always trying."

My eyes slid back to the man battling for his life. "Not always."

"A little faith goes a long way Fraulein."

Oh great. They made holy men in his shape too apparently.

He was a good few inches taller than me. I didn't appreciate it, but it was a necessary evil when I was a mere five foot seven inches. And then I noticed the details I'd missed in the first look. He was all lean muscle, his feet a little odd, two toed and encased in white custom made shoes that were grotesquely caught between ballerina slippers and socks. I had a feeling they made him nimble. But it was the elf ears and the triangle tipped tail that completely threw me for a loop. He probably expected me to sprout some nonsense about how there was no god and how I was a complete atheist. And truth be told, I'd never thought much about God in the grand scheme of things before. It had just never come up. It would never have been something I would have liked to debate with a man who obvious was a priest in another life, but I didn't like his pious little half smile.

He didn't look like any priest I'd seen, but I'd heard this sermon before.

"Well Kurt. Kurt wasn't it?" He nodded minutely, golden eyes a tad unsettling as they held mine. "I came up here for some well-deserved peace and quiet and I intend to have it. If it means helping you save your friend so you'd be out of my hair, that's fine with me. I can get a doctor up here in twenty minutes, one that won't ask any questions, but that all depends on what your answer is to my next question."

Jean looked uncomfortable; the one called Wolverine was poised for trouble.

Kurt on the other hand, raised an eyebrow as if awaiting the worst.

I crossed my arms and fixed him with my best 'I'm in charge' glare. And maybe it was the cocky arch of his eyebrow like he knew what I was going to ask that prompted me to change my question. "Does your tail really center your balance or it just adds to the sex appeal?"

There was a snort of laughter from the woman crouched behind me and I got the satisfaction of watching the blue devil gape at me in abject surprise.

"Fucking hell Wagner, did she just hit on you?"

I couldn't help the wide smirk from spreading across my mouth before fishing out my phone from my pocket. "On second thought, never mind. I got my answer." Leaving the furry one staring after me, I walked out of the cabin to the front porch and flipped my cell phone open. Why the hell was I picking on him? He'd been nice to me. Maybe that was the problem. I shook my head with sigh. I was genuinely messed up in the head.

Hitting speed dial five, I hoped to god he wouldn't kick my ass for this.

"Ian McFadden, talk to me."

"Hi Ian, it's Jena. How's it going?"

"No."

With a frustrated sigh, I leaned against the railing in the porch. "You haven't even heard it."

"Damn you Jena, every time you call me with that opening line I know you want something."

"That's not true."

"When its official, you don't bother asking about my health."

I winced. This weekend was really going to be a chore on my self-worth, I realized. Why was everyone coming down on me for my attitude all at the same damn time? "Someone's dying."

"Someone's always dying."

"Someone's dying in my father's cabin without hospitals anywhere nearby."

He was silent for a moment. "Define dying."

"He can't be moved, their doctor is running late, if he's not given proper medical help, he will die before that happens."

"And this is unofficial because?"

I took a deep breath. "Because they're X-Men."

"SHIT!"

I had known the moment I'd laid eyes on the temperamental one's claws.

"You really know how to pick'um Jena. Friends of yours?"

"No. But I came up here to get away from my father; I really don't want them here."

"What did he do now?"

"I'll tell you later. Just prep the Med-Chopper and come in ten minutes." I spoke again before he could protest. "I know you can. Just come by yourself; the woman can hold her own. You won't need Marty."

"Hmph. You won't go out with me but you expect me to 'woof' every time you call."

"I'll sleep with you. Just get them out of my cabin."

"That's cruel Jena. Real cruel. You know I want babies."

I rolled my eyes and prayed to the heavens. Why was it that when a woman swore off men, she suddenly became ambrosia? "Ian?" I pulled out the big guns. "Please?"

"Dammit! Fine. I'll see you in ten minutes. Tell me what his condition is."

I relayed what Jean had told me and hung up with a thank you that took a moment to force.

Again I realized just how hard it was for me. Why now?

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Nightcrawler or the X-men. Jena is mine and one of the original seven from my fictional work 'The Rainbow Sister.'

Author's Note: This is purely the result of my overactive imagination and my evil friend for inducing naughty thoughts concerning the niftiness and innate sexiness of Furry Blue Elf's tail! Enjoy!

* * *

Back inside the cabin, I saw Jean sitting Indian style her hands gently pressing into his temples, tears running down her face. Both men were nowhere to be seen. Perfect. Just what I needed.

Squatting down beside her, I awkwardly, placed a hand on her shoulder. "Jean. Help is on its way."

Tormented green eyes lifted up to me, nearly knocking me back with the intensity of their sorrow. "Hank is running late. He's in so much pain."

I didn't know what to do, so I reached over to the nearly empty box of tissues from between the bloody bandages and first aid box. Handing her a tissue, I tried to sound soothing. "I've called in a favor. They'll be here in ten minutes." I probably missed the mark. I didn't even know how that was done. "You're telepathically keeping him sedated?"

She nodded minutely, but didn't accept the tissue, tears still freely sliding down her cheeks. "I can't lose him," the whisper was anguished. "Not when I just got him back."

I sat back on my heels and wondered what the hell else I was supposed to do. I remembered someone telling me something about lovebirds a long time ago. That when one dies, the other one loses its will to live. I'd bet anything that this was God's idea of an ironic lesson. Again I wondered why I was suddenly thin-skinned when it came to the ironies of life. I'd been content living in my little shell.

"Where are the others?"

"I told them to go out. They were smothering me," She sniffled and reached out to take the tissue from my hand, the other still touching the man's temple. Her glistening eyes held gratitude as she gazed up at me. "Could you stroke the fire a bit?"

Glad to be useful and relieved I didn't have to deal with her tears again, I walked to the fireplace and picked up the wrought iron poker. "He's a teammate?"

"Scott Summers is our leader. He's my husband."

The vision of Jean in widow's garb was actually disconcerting. Then I shook my head and grunted. How morbid could I be? "I'm sorry Jean."

There was a watery chuckle. "That's okay. I don't look very bad in black."

I winced. "Will you stay out of my head?" I glared at her over my shoulder.

The woman had the decency to flush. "I'm sorry, it's just…you're projecting rather intensely. Is something wrong?"

"You know Jean, I'm doing what I can, but I really don't need to be psychoanalyzed."

She didn't appear to be offended by my barb or my clipped tone. Instead she watched me carefully. "I'm not a shrink." Then she sighed. "I just figured someone else's troubles might give me a break from mine."

What a great big pity party that would be. Maybe we could call in the furry elf and the rude one as well. The priest could preside over us all.

"You know, you shouldn't incite Kurt. He's a good man."

I poked the fire, glaring into its depths. I still didn't understand why I had the need to poke fun at him. "So he is a priest."

"Not anymore."

I looked up startled. "He WAS a priest?"

She smiled softly. "Kurt is Kurt. He's spent the better part of his life being a circus clown because of his gift. He's special. Sometimes, he's the only one who prays for us."

I didn't like her implication. A circus freak who spoke with god. Damn, would the ironies stop coming already? I had a feeling Jean could hear me just fine inside my head. I didn't like it. Grumbling darkly under my breath I replaced the poker in its place. "I'll make some coffee."

"Jena?"

I paused at the doorway to the kitchen and turned back to her.

"I don't think I've said it before, but thank you."

I wanted to say you're welcome, but damned words got stuck in my throat. And it didn't help when Jean smiled gently as if she understood.

You're annoying; I thought at her and marched into the kitchen in the wake of her snicker.

Ian arrived promptly in ten minutes. We replaced Scott onto a stretcher and helped carry him to the makeshift infirmary Ian rode around in. In our business you never knew when disaster struck. But when I saw Ian's frown after he looked at Scott, I hoped to hell Jean would keep her mind on her work and not on Ian's. It didn't look good.

When Wolverine made to step into the chopper, Ian held up a hand. "No."

"Listen bub," the short Canadian growled, but stopped when Kurt put a gentle hand on his arm. "Ah, hell with it." And then with snarl of discontent he marched off into the woods.

The hatch slid shut and Kurt and I stood silently for a moment.

A muscle ticked in my temple and then I finally gave in. "So, you were in a circus."

His mouth twitched with a smile, eyes still on the chopper where his friends were. "If you're wondering about me being a trapeze artist and the need for a tail, you are correct." He turned to me the golden eyes not giving away his teasing tone. "It was essential for balance."

I cleared my throat. "Right."

"How about some coffee Fraulein?"

"I have a name," I muttered before turning to go back into the cabin. He fell into step with me without missing a beat.

"You don't like me much."

I sighed. Here we go again. Men. They were all alike. For a moment I was glad Jean wasn't around to hear my thoughts. "I don't care enough to like you Kurt."

"Why?"

"Nosey much?" Frowning at him, I walked into the cabin and straight into the kitchen.

"Jean said you were troubled."

My feet nearly smoked as I screeched to a halt and spun around. My fingers itched for my gun. I had a feeling, if I had it I would have shot him. "Stop. Just stop okay?" He looked taken aback by my outburst. "I don't need you to act like my confessor! I've had enough of listening to people tell me everything happens for a reason and faith makes the world go round. So just keep your priest routine to yourself, I've heard it all."

He might have been startled, but nothing I said seemed to come as a surprise to him. I hated how he took everything in stride.

I felt like a heel. Why did this man rub me the wrong way? Maybe it was the way he was centered. Maybe it was the damn tail that started it all. With a groan, I put my head in my hands and fell onto a stool, my elbows coming to rest on the counter. "Why now? God why the hell now?"

The coffee mug was gently placed in front of me, the smell of the fresh ground gliding up my nose and instantly calming my nerves. "I'm sorry Jena. I merely thought I might be able to help you. You've been very kind to us. It was presumptuous of me to imply that you should confess your sins to me. I am no longer a priest."

And it only made me feel worse that he was apologizing. I wanted to say sorry to him. I had jumped down his throat. What was worse was that I wanted to tell him. I was tired and I was exhausted and maybe my father's declaration had been the final nail in my coffin. Maybe Kitty's parting shot had hit harder than I had imagined. Maybe it was goddamn karma that I ran into these ragtag mutants clinging to their last vestige of humanity and faith.

Lifting my head, I swallowed the irrational need to break something and peered up at him as he sat on the stool beside me, his cup of coffee warming in his three fingered hands calmly. "So what are you?"

"In what way?"

"If you're not a priest."

He shrugged. "Just a man Fraulein."

I couldn't help wrinkle my nose at him. "I don't like men."

His head tilted towards me cautiously. "I see."

I couldn't help it.

My rancorous laughter rang through the kitchen, shoulders quaking endlessly, hands gripping the edge of my counter to keep from slipping.

For a few seconds he watched me in bewilderment then frowned as if annoyed with the tears of laughter clouding my vision.

Holding up one hand, gasping for air, I finally managed to force the words past my lips. "I'm sorrr…so," I sputtered, the laughter still irrationally coming in torrents. Maybe I was supposed to cry, but something had come unhinged at that moment he'd regarded me with the guarded glance. "I'm sorry," I tried again and succeeded. "I'm not laughing at you."

"That was not amusing."

It drew another snort until I finally straightened my face as best as I could, the mirth bubbling in my belly, the tears belying the ache in my chest. "I didn't mean…"

"I gathered as much."

My mouth twitched then he let out a dry little laugh and finally turned to me with a smile. "I must have come off as a rather presumptuous arse."

I nodded slightly. "You do sort of take one's breath away."

His smile instantly twisted into one that was boyish. A very furry boy with fangs. "In a good way?"

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my coffee. "Don't polish that look on me Kurt. I'm immune."

"I'm curious."

"You know what happened to the cat?"

"Ahh Fraulein, but I bet she died happy."

I stared at the double meaning in his tone. "I bet you were a very bad priest."

He snickered. "Nein. I am a better X-Man."

"And that meant giving up priesthood?"

"It is hard to be pious when you're kicking ass."

I couldn't help the spurt of laughter. He was an enigma. For once I didn't feel as if this man had anything to prove to me. It didn't matter that I had breasts. "My father wants me to get married," I threw at him experimentally.

An eyebrow arched. "Marriage is a sanctimonious bond." For a moment my smile dropped, but then he grinned. "Jämmerlich. I'm sorry. You seem to have this effect on me. Usually I'm very pleasant."

With a grunt, I took another sip of my cooling coffee. "I seem to have that effect on most people."

"Your father wants grandchildren or business favors?"

Were all these X-Men so perceptive or was I transparent?

"Grandkids."

He nodded sagely. "Age reminds us of the finality of death. He wants to experience the joy of seeing your children before he goes."

I glared at him. "You're doing pious again."

"My apologies. Your father's afraid your biological clock is ticking."

I wanted to smack him. Not the kind that meant he would have broken bones, but the kind that was friendly and entirely flirtatious. The realization wiped all semblances of comfort and smiles off my face.

"Ahh Jena, I didn't mean it like that."

"Stop apologizing," I muttered. Already there had been too much apology today for my taste. "I know you were making a funny."

The silence was stifling.

"I am worried about my friend."

Nearly sighing with relief at his opening, I turned to him. "Ian's a very good paramedic."

"I do not doubt it. I am afraid it might be his time."

I frowned at him. "You think God's waiting at the pearly gates with a clipboard and his boarding pass?"

"You do have a way with words Jena." He sighed and gazed into the swirling depths of his coffee mug. "If anyone deserves some peace and happiness it is Scott and Jean. Together."

"Well then you have nothing to worry about. Doesn't love conquer all?" I tried to keep the sneer out of my voice.

He blinked at me. Golden eyes glowing. "Mein Gott. He really hurt you badly, didn't he?"

And just like that the camaraderie flew out of the damned window. I was on my feet in an instant. His hand caught my wrist and I had to physically battle the need to break his thick fingers. "Jena, I didn't mean…"

"Don't you DARE apologize!" I snarled, my eyes flashing with anger. "Get your hands off me."

Releasing me he raised both hands up into the air as if to show me that he had no intention of making that mistake again. You could poke a mad dog only so many times before it bites. "Maybe it is for the best."

"What is?!" I snapped.

Running a weary hand through his short curly hair. "That I mind my own business. I assure you Fraulein; I am not usually this intrusive."

"Sure blame the woman. That's always manly."

His sigh was defeated. "I cannot win with you." Standing out of the chair he smiled gently at me. Gone was the man with the boyish grin and sense of humor. "Maybe I should make something to eat for when they come back. Scott likes soup."

"What happened to 'it might be his time'?"

"JENA!" He snapped, golden eyes flashing with ire, his tail swishing behind him irritably. "What is it that you want?"

I winced. I had no idea. I held up my hands almost mirroring his stance. Hoping that it would be somewhat of a peace offering. "I'm envious."

"Of what?"

"Your balance."

His face contorted with confusion. "What?"

"The tail, the balance. Everything!" I threw up my hands and began to pace. One of the many family traits that the Halliwells suffered.

"The tail?" The poor man really did look confused.

"Not the tail. Just…ARGH!" Throwing up my hands I spun around to gather my spiraling emotions. It was like riding a rollercoaster without a seatbelt and this was unfamiliar territory. I really just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep off today. From my father's demands, to watching Jean's heartbreaking predicament to Kurt and his ability to have me spill my guts to him. I didn't really care if it was a priest thing. It was annoying as hell. "I don't like how you people get inside my head!"

"Jean is only trying…"

"I am not talking about the telepathy." I spun on him and he took a step back, more to allow me space than in fear of me hitting him. "I don't want to do this today okay? Not today!"

"What is today?"

"I'm weak today."

"We are all weak some days Jena. It is not a crime."

I crossed my arms stubbornly.

He let out a frustrated little groan. "I've met complicated women before, but you Fraulein could drive a man to drink." My mouth twitched and he glared, pointing one of his thick fingers at me. "Don't. Now find me something to cook."

"Would you like an apron?"

Shaking his head, he grumbled in German under his breath before walking to the stove. Rolling my eyes, I walked up to him and took the box of matches. "You look like death, go find your growly friend. I'll make something edible."

"You prefer my growly friend's company."

The warning look withers most men, but Kurt only chuckled. "Understood."

He paused and I could almost see the question mark on his face. "Out with it."

The perceptive demand made him jump a little. It was cute. "I wondered if you…"

"Spit or swallowed?"

I could have sworn I saw his cheeks flush with pink. What was it about disconcerting this very nice man in blue birthday suit? It was heinous how I wanted to knock him off of his center. Heinous and completely vile. I wanted to apologize, but I feared it would only start our argument again. "Judging by your blush, I'd say that wasn't it."

"Ahh…nein. I wondered if you might have some change of clothes?" He gestured down to the blood crusted and battered body armor.

My eyebrow hiked. "If you fit into my clothes, I will kill myself."

He threw up his hands. "Why do I bother?"

This time the laugh was genuine. "My father's room has some spares that might fit you. I don't know about the other one. I don't think even Jean would fit, we're not endowed the same way."

For my part, he didn't look at my breasts. It reaffirmed what Jean had said. He was a good man. "Ikh! You are a vile woman."

"Funny, that's what I was thinking a few minutes ago." Flashing him a smirk, I picked up the pot where Jean had been boiling water to sterilize the bandages and put it in the sink. "My father's bathroom has hot water and some clean towels. Use them."

"Are you implying?"

"Yes," I threw back without remorse.

"Ahh, I see. Yes well. I will find Logan." When I still felt him standing behind me I looked over my shoulder at him in query. "The apron suits you."

Before I could throw something at him, he had walked out of the kitchen and I stood there with the spatula in my hand.

Dear god, I hadn't killed nearly enough criminals to deserve this.

 _To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Nightcrawler or the X-men. Jena is mine and one of the original seven from my fictional work 'The Rainbow Sister.'

Author's Note: This is purely the result of my overactive imagination and my evil friend for inducing naughty thoughts concerning the niftiness and innate sexiness of Furry Blue Elf's tail! Enjoy!

* * *

Thirty minutes later when he walked into the kitchen, I had hopped up on the counter, eating black olives out of the jar.

For a moment we stared at each other like blithering idiots; although for entirely different reasons.

His eyes were fixed on the plate of sandwiches I'd whipped up along with the salad and lemonade.

Mine were fixed on the mutant I'd never seen before in my life.

The lust that streaked through my veins was completely unexpected and entirely unwelcome.

Because while he'd been garbed in his uniform, complete with the 'X' that screamed to be noticed, he'd been untouchable. But now wearing my father's old blue Levi's and the crisp white shirt, with the collar open around his throat, the sleeved rolled up to his elbows, he was suddenly completely approachable and damned sexy. For an insane moment I wanted to walk around him to see how his tail fit.

Oh dear god. I jerked my eyes away from the firm muscles in his arms to the snug way the jeans fit on his lean hips and thighs. What the hell was going on? I was being punished for something I'd done. I was sure of it. Maybe God was conspiring with my father. Maybe my damned biological clock was ticking. Ten years later the woman had suddenly reared her head and woken up out of her slumber. I wanted to choke the hell out of her.

There was no explanation. I was just twisted. Every since that goddamn night at the Summer Camp men had been shot down, balls had been busted, tears had been shed (no, not mine.) I couldn't for the life of me explain why the inner woman had decided to assert itself for this furry blue skinned demon. A furry blue skinned demon who had been a priest!

I blame the tail.

A throat was cleared and I realized it was neither his nor mine.

And the blush came unbidden. Jesus Christ. Could today get any worse?

"Am I interruptin'?"

Kurt seemed to snap out of stupor, but his eyes made one quick awed pass over me, then the cuisine spread out before him until he finally turned to Logan. "Nein mein friend. Jena has been kind enough to make us something to eat."

Screwing the olive jar closed, I nodded to the pot on the stove. "And the soup's boiling for when Scott wakes up."

"Mein Gott!"

"What's wrong Wagner?"

"I left her twenty minutes ago!"

"Will your breathe Fuzzy? Ya'll give yerself a heart attack." The stocky Canadian pulled up a stool and sat down on the counter unceremoniously. "Any word from Jean?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid." Kurt shook his head, carefully placing himself into a stole as I hopped off the counter, careful to keep a distance between myself and the tail I wanted to grab with my teeth. Hell. I bet God was sitting up there having a merry beer at the spectacle that was me.

Logan bit into a sandwich, and paused. Before he could say something nasty, I planted the glass of lemonade beside him with a narrowing of my eyes that meant he should swallow and wash it down. But when he lifted those black eyes, I noticed they were filled with appreciation. Instantly I turned to look at Kurt, who was munching thoughtfully. When noticed my expectant gaze, his mouth tilted up slightly. "They're great."

I wanted to smack myself for the wave of satisfaction that ran through me. How much more pathetic could I be?

"JENA!"

Spinning around, I watched in horror as Ian marched up into the kitchen, his white coat covered in blood. His eyes blood shot, and flashing with ire. "Outside!"

I cocked an eyebrow at the demand and he pointedly held my gaze. The please was there somewhere.

With a roll of my eyes, I put down the pitcher of lemonade and walked out after him to the back porch.

Outside, he stood there for a moment, shaking with restraint. I think I'd only ever seen Ian this angry once in the time we had worked together. Hoping my voice was as gentle as I intended it to be, I spoke. "Is he dead?"

He whipped around, eyes still flashing with fury. "No! But if she doesn't get out of the chopper, I will kill her."

I cleared my throat, trying my damnedest not to smile. "I see. Jean is a telepath."

"I HATE her!" He struggled out of the stained white lab coat and threw it on the floor. "She keeps poking into my head, she won't shut up, she is constantly telling me how to do my job and she's driving me insane!"

"And the patient?"

His shoulders slumped. "Is fine. I managed to remove the shrapnel. You know my scope is limited with the Med-chopper."

"I know Ian. Just do your best."

"I have. He's breathing; he's stable, although, it was touch and go for a moment. Dammit Jena, it's heartbreaking."

My smile was understanding. "I know. Picturesque too."

"Too damned picturesque," he lamented. "And she won't budge on moving him to a hospital. She received a call from some guy called 'Beast' and said Scott was stable and that they should come and pick them up in the morning instead. I swear I thought our Bureau was a madhouse."

Since I was on a lot of firsts today, I walked forward and wrapped my arms around the man. For a moment he stood stiffly, shock clearly etched into his face. But then he wrapped his arms around me and sighed into my hair. "Damn Jena, but you can be sweet sometimes."

"Yeah well don't get used to it," I mumbled into his shirt. "Ian?"

"What?"

"Thank you."

He chuckled and gave me a squeeze.

That's when the door opened and we were bathed in light. Looking up, I felt my blood freeze in my veins.

For a moment Kurt stared at the picture we presented, and then his eyes slid away. "I'm sorry to interrupt. But Jean called to say she wanted to move Scott into one of the rooms."

Ian didn't release me. "I'll help her move him, just give me a minute."

"No." I pushed out of Ian's arms who looked disappointed, but something crazy was happening inside me today. Which would explain why I voluntarily, touched Kurt's arm, reveling in the feel of the muscle there for only a breath. "Come on I'll show you the guest room. It's not upstairs so it'll be easier. Ian?" I turned to the man I'd been embracing only a second ago. He looked like a kicked puppy and I hated myself. "Go help Jean."

"You are so lame sometimes Jena." With a scowl, he turned and walked past us into the house. But not without knocking into my shoulder and sending me sprawling into Kurt.

He didn't know that he might have done me a favor. He was just sore I'd closed up on him again.

Of course that didn't help the position I was in now.

Dammit legs, move!

His hands were warm on my shoulders, the sensation of the thick thumbs braced against my collarbone oddly comforting. My god, I was losing my mind. It was asinine to think everything had suddenly changed because he was wearing clothes.

Then the gasp was mine and Kurt went deathly still.

The damned tail had moved around him and coiled around my thigh over my pant leg.

My head jerked back and I stared up at him. His mouth was open, gaping in surprise, the soft brush of his goatee nearly touching his throat. The look was so comically helpless and shocked, I couldn't muffle my snicker. "Kurt…"

"Ah hell! Verdmmen! I'm sorry." He mumbled something in quick German, his hand snapping down to wrap around the warm coil of muscle on my leg. He tugged it away, only to have it brush against my knee. "Shit! I mean…"

My shoulder's shaking; I resisted the urge to kiss him. The thought alone giving me all kinds of hives. So to spare both of us the torture, I pulled away from him and put reasonable distance between us. "It's okay."

Teeth grit together, a soft growl rumbled through him. "No, it is not okay." Mustering his restraint, he took a deep breath and finally met my eyes with more calm. "I apologize despite the fact that you had warned me. I don't usually curse like a pubescent teenager. It's just sometimes…"

"It has a mind of its own?"

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Ja."

I wanted to tease him, but I was suddenly afraid of what it might mean. Nodding my understanding I motioned for him to follow with a wiggle of my finger. "Come on. Let's go check out the bedroom."

He gawked at me until I realized my mistake. Oh hell. "For Scott."

"Of course."

We awkwardly walked to the guest bedroom and I turned down the bed cover. We were adjusting the pillows when the door opened and in floated the still unconscious form of one Scott Summers. If I hadn't just had a tail wrap around me rather erotically the sight of the floating body would have definitely warranted a few faints. Especially with the day I'd had. But Jean carefully maneuvered her husband into the room and Ian walked in to spread the waterproof tarp on the bed in case there was some blood. Kurt and I stood to the side, Logan leaning in the doorway as the two doctors carefully situated the X-Men leader into the bed.

Then before I could blink, Jean turned and threw her arms around me. The kiss was planted on my cheek, my hands still in the air as she squeezed the life out of me. "Thank you," she whispered fiercely. "Thank you."

Kurt must have seen the catatonic widening of my eyes because he gently took Jean's arm and pulled her into his. "Shhh Jeanie. It is okay. He is fine now." And it was when I saw her shoulders trembling did I notice that she'd been crying. I watched Kurt murmur gently into the redhead's hair, his hands running soothing circles across her back.

Logan came to stand over Scott, looking down at their leader. "I'll take the first watch. Jeanie should get some rest."

And suddenly I was an outsider.

The rollercoaster had stopped but I was still teetering over the precipice.

"Jena?"

Looking up at Ian's voice I followed him outside, closing the door gently behind me.

If the bloody gauze and first aid kit wasn't still lying in front of the fireplace I would have sworn it was all a dream.

"Jena?"

"I'm okay Ian."

"I know you better."

With a sigh, I glanced up at him. "Today's not my day. I'll call you."

He watched me a moment as if he wanted to say something. Disagree maybe. "So when are we sleeping together?" He asked instead.

I couldn't help smile up at him. "I'll call you."

"Do I at least get a kiss?"

"Ian!"

"How about a cup of coffee?"

I relented. "Fine. One cup of coffee."

"You are cruel."

I wasn't so sure anymore.

 _To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Nightcrawler or the X-men. Jena is mine and one of the original seven from my fictional work 'The Rainbow Sister.'

Author's Note: This is purely the result of my overactive imagination and my evil friend for inducing naughty thoughts concerning the niftiness and innate sexiness of Furry Blue Elf's tail! Enjoy! And thank you for everyone who's following.

* * *

Jean had refused to go up and sleep in my room. She had although finally collapsed onto the couch, her hands tucked under her cheek in exhaustive sleep.

Logan had promised not to smoke inside so he'd left the door open to Scott's room and gone onto the back porch to smoke.

Ian had been true to his word. He'd had his coffee, dropped a kiss on my cheek and left to catch some sleep.

That left me and Kurt sitting on the wooden steps leading up into the two rooms none of us felt the need to occupy.

I realized that at first I'd been eager to get this night over with so I could sleep, but now, I was afraid if I slept, it'd be over.

"You should get some rest Fraulein."

I was reveling in the feelings today had thrown my way. Sleep was the last thing on my mind.

It wasn't until I felt the soft brush of his tail against my cheek that I realized a tear had slid out of my left eye. Startled I stared up at Kurt who sat two steps above me, his golden eyes burning down at me. "He was two years older than me. My camp coordinator."

If he was surprised at my sudden need to spill my guts, he didn't say, but the tail brushed against my other cheek as another hot tear slid out of my eye.

"I thought he loved me and it was pretty damned sweet. We were inseparable. And then on the last day of camp, he told me he had a girlfriend back home. He said I was a stupid girl who thought sex meant love. He never told me he loved me, he said he enjoyed me. He said he thought I was cute kid, but I needed to grow up."

"And you did."

I nodded.

"You didn't tell anyone?"

I shook my head.

"Come here Fraulein."

Without a thought, I turned and crawled up the steps to his open arms.

Curling in his lap, he wrapped those strong blue arms around me, his chin rested on top of my head as I buried my face into the open collar of his shirt. There were no more tears. I felt stupid about my confession. I felt stupid about how much of a deal I had made his rejection. And for a just a second I realized just how much of my life I had missed, but the thought nearly took my breath from me so I put it aside. I wouldn't think about it. Not now. Not today.

"He was a fool," he whispered into my hair, his arms giving me a comforting squeeze. "But Jena, he was right about one thing."

I craned my head and peered up at him with eyes that were probably still glossy with tears. "Which part? The sex or the stupid part?"

His smile was gentle. "Neither meine liebe. He was right; you are a cute kid."

It hadn't hurt as much as it did hearing it from him.

Before he could protest or hold me, I reached up and kissed him. Hard, open-mouthed and angry. Lying between his legs, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other wrapped around his nape, and I kissed him with enough fury to bruise.

But the man is a circus freak. With the furious angry rage burning in my veins and my blood pounding in my head, he held my head gently between those big but surprisingly gentle hands and leaned back against the steps. The hard slants of my mouth softened. The painful grip of my fingers loosened. The dull ache in my chest disappeared and suddenly I was a creature of sensation.

Stretching out over his lean frame, my legs tangling with his, my hands sliding over the fine lines of his face and arms I became the woman that had been stretching and waking since I'd opened my eyes in the cabin. She grew and grew until there was nothing left of the bitter young girl with black chipped nail polish.

With a soft moan of relief, my body rolled against him, my knee sliding against the growing bulge between his legs, my mouth warm and moist against him, fingers questing over the thin soft fur on his forearms while his hands tangled in my hair. His heart beat furiously against my left breast, the pace exhilarating. Just the fluttering of his tail wrapped around my thigh had me trembling. The small triangle tip was maneuvering higher up. I wasn't the only one in this. It was a nice feeling.

My tongue slid over the sharp edges of his fangs and the man suddenly came alive.

His arms came around me like bands of steel, his mouth stealing my breath as one leg slid up and planted itself firmly between mine. Our breaths mingled furiously through our noses, mouths too preoccupied to bother and I was lost.

Then slowly, like a bonfire that burns brightly in the beginning to settle into a slow burn, his hungry mouth calmed, his hands didn't clutch, and his breath slowed until we stilled. Bodies pressed together. Fitting in all the curves and slants. Blood singing in sync. Very slowly, as if it would hurt to disturb the chemicals between us, our mouths slid away, clung one last time and then parted.

His head hit the step behind him and he drew a ragged breath. "Jesus."

The word uttered with such shock and reverence from the mouth of an ex-priest turned the woman into a goddess. With a muffled giggle, I let my lips graze his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously as he tried to calm his racing heart. "Not bad for a kid huh?" I chuckled huskily.

"I forgot who I was talking to."

I smiled against the taut skin of his neck and nuzzled there. This was nice. It was a nice feeling being in his arms, but my damned heart wouldn't stop pounding and if he hadn't been wearing me like a second skin, I wouldn't have known that neither did his.

When he didn't speak, I lifted my head to see him staring up at the ceiling pensively. Suddenly the nasty little voice started whispering again. He probably thought I needed a quick declaration of love after that. "Don't look so worried Wagner. I don't need a marriage proposal from you." Then with my hands planted on his chest, I pushed myself off him in one fluid move.

"Jena, wait."

"Tell me that was fear I smelled on you just now."

"You cannot smell fear."

"Contrary to popular belief, I can smell it on a man a mile away."

"Jena, please…"

"Tell me!"

He was silent for a moment and I turned away. "Every man is allowed his doubts, but…"

"Save it. I don't need your pity."

"Goddamn you woman, does this look like pity to you?"

I looked up at him as he sat there on the steps, his elbows resting on his bent knees, his breath still short, and his eyes burning. I swallowed when I noticed the soft lines of his parted mouth, my throat running dry.

No.

It didn't look like pity, but the damage was done.

Dragging my eyes away, I picked up my jacket off the chair. "I need some air. Don't follow me."

I brushed past Logan who blinked at me in surprise before looking up at Kurt still sitting on the steps. "What the hell is her problem?"

My problem was that I was a cute kid.

My problem was that sex came with love.

Damn I missed my black nail polish.

If I had been short on faith before, I sure as hell wasn't now.

I had complete faith that God had thrown the furry elf in my life to torment me further.

And it was not fair that I couldn't go home and I couldn't back to the cabin, so I rode down the winding road in the middle of the night like the scared little runaway I had always been.

I left him there sitting on those steps. The messed up, confused woman who could drive a man to drink. It was better this way, I told myself. It was better not feeling anything rather than feeling as much as I had felt yesterday. I had done all I could for those people. They didn't belong in my world and I was in no mood to join theirs, the stress alone with kill me.

My sister opened the door to her apartment and her mouth dropped open in shock. "Jena?"

Of course she thought I was someone else. My eyes were still brimming with tears even though my cheeks were soaked as was the front of my shirt.

Exhausted and emotionally drained, I collapsed in her arms and thanked God that Kitty was no weakling.

"No don't come over Sam. She'll run away again." Kitty held the phone against her ear, but her eyes stayed on the woman curled into her bed. "God, I don't know what happened."

"Kitty, I'm worried. Let me come."

"No Sam. Just tell me what to do."

"I...when she wakes up give her some of mamma's hot chocolate with colored sprinkles. I did when she was young and been crying. Oh but I don't know now, she's not had any since..."

Kitty sighed. "I know Sam."

"Where was she?"

"Up in the cabin."

"Alone?"

"Not from what I could make out. Samantha? Did Jena ever mention a fuzzy blue elf?"

"A stuffed toy maybe?"

Kitty watched the tear tracks still fresh on her cheeks. "I think we should find it before we lose her again."

"I'll call Nina."

Nina stormed into the apartment, her raven hair nearly coming out of her bun, glasses askew, grey business skirt and blouse dusty and wrinkled. "Okay, someone explain to me why I spent all evening looking for a goddamn stuffed toy in the attic when THIS was delivered to my office in your name?!"

Nina is usually immaculate and makes complete sense. So I couldn't for the life of me understand what she was talking about. Even Kitty stared at her in shock. "Stuffed toy?"

"Who the hell is the fuzzy blue elf?"

My heart plunged into my gut. My face must have given me away because Nina snorted with satisfaction and shook the white paper in my face. "The damned fuzzy blue elf sent this with a pair of daddy's old jeans and a shirt along with one other thing."

I took the paper from her, my heart pounding in my chest as I saw the sloping, beautiful handwriting. The words brought fresh tears to my eyes. It said in simple cursive, 'I would have sent mine, but Jean said I might never trapeze again.'

Dragging my gaze away from the words I looked up at Nina expectantly.

She only glared for another moment before dangling the long red tail in front of me.

Tears still brimming my eyes, I burst out into uncontrolled laughter; my sisters watching me with growing concern.

I hugged the stuffed red devil's tail and jumped to my feet.

"Jena!"

"Later Nina! I promise I'll tell you later." I dialed Ian's number. He picked up on the second ring. "Hi Ian!"

"No."

"Yes you goddamn insensitive idiot! I need you to find me the address for the X-Mansion!"

"That's easy. Westchester, New York. I called to check up on Scott. And Jena?"

"What?"

"Say hi to Kurt."

I could help the grin. "I will. Thanks Ian." I jumped onto my bike while my sisters ran out after me. But I was already pulling out of the parking.

I stood outside the door and suddenly all the bravado that had come with crossing the damn country dissipated like fog. My feet itched to run. The cab had already dropped me. If I ran now I really would have to run. There was no way I'd be able to get to the gate with the amount of ground I had to cover. But then the door was swinging open.

Oh crap. Oh hell. Panic building under my skin, I was about to say I was lost when I stared up at the man standing in the doorway.

"Holy shit! Scott!" Throwing my arms around him, I hugged the man around his neck. He was okay. He was walking. He was talking. Oh right. He was talking. And that's when I heard the woman's voice.

"Who the hell is that?"

"Jean, I swear I don't know her! Lady, could you please…"

But I released him already and turned to grin at Jean. The redhead only waited a second before launching forward to hug me tightly. "Jena! Oh, it's good to see you."

"Jena? This is Jena?"

Laughing with mirth, Jean pulled away, her hands still holding my arms. "Yes Scott. This is Jena."

The leader of the X-Men was much more impressive now that he was standing on his own two feet. Even though I couldn't see into his eyes, the boyish smile on his face and the awkward way he scratched the back of his neck was adorable. "Jena, they told me what you did. I just wanted to…."

"If you thank me, I'll kick your ass." I grinned cheekily at him. "Trust me. If anyone's thanking anyone, it'll have to be me."

"Jena?"

Turning to the telepath, I sighed suddenly unsure of how to say it. It had been two weeks. But Jean didn't give me one of her knowing smiles, but she did raise an eyebrow. "Oh sweetie. I'm not reading you. Back at the cabin my powers were all over the place trying to keep Scott together. Here, I exert a little more control with the Professor's help. No one's reading you here."

I wished she could, because the words were stuck in my throat. I didn't know what to say to her. That I came to see Kurt. If she even knew. I didn't even know if there was something to know. "How's Kurt?"

Jean smiled brightly. "Oh he's fine. He's in the danger room."

My senses instantly went on alert. "The what? Why; what's wrong with him?"

"Oh!" Jean chuckled. "No. The danger room is like a training facility. He's just doing a bit of exercise. I'm sure he'll be out in a few."

I bit my lip. I knew if I didn't do this now, I'd lose my nerve. "Could I go see him?"

She blinked at me startled. "I…well." Her eyes darted up to Scott who looked puzzled. With a soft sigh, she grabbed my elbow. "Honey, just give us a minute."

I wiggled my fingers at Scott with a little smile as the Jean proceeded to herd me into the hallway. "Jena, what's going on?"

Jesus Christ, how was I supposed to explain this to her. "Well…Kurt…He…"

Jean stared at me. "Jena, do you understand how frustrating it is for a telepath to patiently wait for a person to speak?"

I couldn't muffle the snort of laughter. "I'm sorry." Taking a deep breath, I finally mustered all that was left of my courage. Which wasn't much. "Kurt sent me a tail."

A perfect red eyebrow arched.

With a wince, I realized she would need something more. "I want Kurt's tail."

Her eyes widened marginally at those word, her mouth widening into a startled 'O'. Finally when she had more control of her mouth, she sputtered. "His tail, tail or his tail as in the tail he has."

My mouth quirked at the corners. "Both actually."

"Oh dear." She took a deep breath. "And does he want_"

I snickered. "I hope so."

She watched me silently for a moment. "Do I want to know?"

Mouth still twitching, I shook my head slowly.

"Right. Well then I'll just show you the way. We usually don't let people in there, but I guess we can make an exception. Follow me."

Although it took a minute to walk through the halls and take the elevator to the lower level, the butterflies in my stomach increased tenfold. Jean paused outside the huge metal double door and punched in a security code. Even though my bravado had long abandoned me, the sight that met my eyes took my breath away.

The man flew through the air like a bird, body rolling and coiling before spreading wide to catch the bar. I remember saying to him that he took one's breath away. In the safe humane environment of my cabin, he'd just being the blue devil, but here in the white walls of the huge chamber he was an X-Man. An expert gymnast and a man gifted with something unique. Now I realized why Jean had said he was special.

With liquid fluidity he flew from one perch to another tirelessly. And to think I'd envied his tail. I envied the skies he must fly through. The heights his must reach. Behind me I didn't notice Jean leave with only the hiss of the danger room doors sliding shut.

Slowly I walked forward to get a better look at the man I had been touching so thoroughly. The sight of him flying through the air, made me believe everything happened for a reason. And then he turned in the air and his golden eyes saw me gazing up at him in wonder.

He lost his grip and my heart leapt in my throat as he fell through the air. Oh my god, he was going to die.

My mouth opened to scream, but then in an explosion of black smoke he was gone.

Frozen in place I looked around only find myself in the white sterile room. Maybe I'd just made it up. In my head. Hell I was messed up enough to do that.

Then I hear the muted 'BAMF' behind me and I spun around, instincts making me draw the automatic out of its hiding place in my coat.

"Whoa there Fraulein. And here I thought you'd be happy to see me."

Gaping down the barrel of my gun at the grinning blue mutant, I had half a mind to put a bullet in him and prove he was flesh and blood.

"Jena?"

"Don't Jena me!" I snarled. "What the hell was that?"

Holding up his hands as if to reaffirm that he was unarmed, he chuckled. "You know I am a mutant."

"So!?"

"So it would mean there is more to me besides the fact that I appear odd."

"You're a furry elf. Odd is an understatement. But what the hell was that?"

"Do you plan to put the gun down?"

"No." I fidgeted slightly. "I like it there."

"Do you think I'm going to hurt you?"

Of course not. But as long as the gun was between us, my racing heart could be blamed on it. Plus it kept me from jumping him.

"Jena."

"Hmph." Relaxing my arm, I whipped the automatic back into its holster under my coat and glared at him. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I apologize." He bowed slightly in a rather gallant way. "I assume you got my…er…tail."

"Don't you mean my tail?"

His head ducked to the side and he raised an eyebrow. "I see you didn't bring it with you."

"Whatever Wagner. What the hell did you just do?"

"This."

My breath caught in my throat as he exploded into another spurt of pungent black smoke before reappearing only inches away from me, his breath warm against my mouth. Oh hell. Already I was imagining all the lovely surprises with this neat little discovery. Yes ladies and gentleman, Jena Halliwell was going to live out each and every fantasy that had been denied to her in the past ten years. Staring up into his golden eyes, I swayed for a moment, but his hands came to rest on my shoulders like they had before. "Do you know Fraulein, how long it took me to find you?"

I shook my head minutely, letting the soft rhythms of his voice wash over me like water, his proximity heightening every nerve.

"It took me two days to find out who owned that cabin before discovering who your father was, but then I didn't think I'd be well received if I sent anything to his office so I took a chance on your sister."

"You don't know how lucky you are you survived it. My sister's the parent in this relationship; my father would have been a better ally."

His mouth widened into a smile. "Did you defy them and come here?"

"Would that turn you on?"

His laugh was embarrassed as well as pleased. "You will give me gray hairs Fraulein." His arms slowly snaked around me, my own hands sliding up his chest.

"Maybe it's fate."

His tail coiled around my leg, the tip of it teasing against the sensitive skin of where my thigh met hip. "Maybe it's love."

I swallowed thickly, visions of just how agile his tail could be filling my head. "What about your doubts?"

"Chase them away meine liebe," he purred softly.

I peered at him curiously, the frisky tail slowly sliding up into the hem of my white cotton shirt. "You called me that before you kissed me."

"I?" He pretended offense as my body melted against him, when the tip of that talented tail found a nipple.

With a muted moan, I squeezed him possessively in my arms. "Okay so I kissed you. What does it mean?"

"Well Fraulein, it usually means that you like me, even desire me."

"I meant what you called me!" I hate when triumphant men become wise-asses but on this man, it was endearing.

"It means my love."

My mouth parted in surprise. "But you said…"

His mouth captured mine for one hard kiss. "Ahh Jena. I was battling with myself. You were caught in a trying time and all I really wanted to do was tell you that I wanted to you to be mine. I didn't think it would be conducive to our budding rapport."

"You're doing the pious again."

"Forgive me. While you were crying on my shoulder, all I wanted to do was throw you down and make love to you."

I shuddered against him, my mouth sliding along his jaw, lips tickling against his trimmed goatee. "God yes," I whispered achingly as his body rolled into mine. "Please tell me that teleportation works without me letting you go."

His mouth widened into a demonic grin, his fangs flashing in the white light, golden eyes like the devil he never was. "Hold on tight Fraulein."

My gasp died in the air as the danger room became empty, only the faint smell of brimstone in the air.

He told me later it was the sandwiches that convinced him.

Men!

THE END


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